


When The High's Too High, and the Low's Too Low

by DaysLikeMasquerades



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Autism, Autism is not a bad thing, Best Friends, Bipolar 2, Bipolar 2 is different than bipolar 1, Bullying, Depression, Growing Up, I'll add to this as I go, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It doesn't lead to a life of suffering, M/M, Neurodiversity, OT5, Other, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Why isn't that a tag?, YA Fiction, band kid AU, band kids, but no suicide attempts, but not between H & L, eventual relationship but give it time, future warning for, lowkey a, neurodiversity but make it realistic, neurodiversity isn't scary, nonbinary characters - Freeform, realistic fiction, there will be nothing too graphic - chapters will ALWAYS have TWs so you can skip if you need, this sounds darker than it is, wind symphony, young adult fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaysLikeMasquerades/pseuds/DaysLikeMasquerades
Summary: Two perspectives of growing up neurodivergentSome days Harry wondered if he would ever find a friend who could look past all the things he couldn't change. Someone who didn't care that he could spend hours talking about his latest fascination without calling him obsessed. Who didn't laugh when he couldn't stop his hands from expressing his emotions. Who didn't care that he was 13, but he'd start crying if he went into too many stores, because they were too bright, too loud, too smelly, and it was all just too overwhelming. Some days he thought someone like that just didn't exist.Most nights Louis wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn't hate himself. When he would learn to control his emotions and the mood swings that seemed to take over everything and leave no room for himself. He wondered how he could live with himself when he only seemed to hurt the people he loved. His teachers thought he was a wonderful boy, but he knew the truth. Most nights he cried himself into exhaustion wondering how it was possible to feel so broken at only 15. He wanted to be happy, but he didn't know how and that scared him more than anything. Most nights he just hoped he could figure it out before it was too late.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter One – Had Another Talk About Where It's Going Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> AKA The painfully honest but relatively positive depiction of being young and neurodivergent in YA Fiction format that I wish I had when I was younger. 
> 
> Nothing is romanticized and nothing is vilified, because as much as I love a good, dark portrayal of mental illness, it's not entirely realistic and I'm tired of the stigmas. This is a story where the main characters have struggles, not about the main characters struggling.  
> Low-key a band kid AU.
> 
> If you've already started this, I apologize because I just changed their ages, but high school fits the storyline better than middle school. 
> 
> Here are some numbers/links if you're feeling anxious, depressed, suicidal -  
> National Suicide Prevention Hotline - 800-273-8255  
> Text CONNECT to 741741 to chat with a Crisis Counselor  
> The Trevor Project LGBTQ+ Support Line/Suicide Prevention (includes texting/online chat support) https://www.thetrevorproject.org/  
> \- (The Trevor Project is a really great resource, they've helped me a lot over the years.)
> 
> Hi! This is my first fic so please be nice, but also, let me know if there's anything I can do to improve. The title is from Don't Let It Break Your Heart because the first time I heard that line I felt like it summed up my life in 10 words. First off, some content warnings. I want this to be an accurate portrayal of being neurodivergent, so I'm not going to sugar-coat the hard stuff, but I also want to show that there are beautiful sides of it too, so it won't be all dark. Also, everyone's experiences are different and I'm in no way trying to say this is the only way people experience these things. If you have an issue with anything, or if there's a particular experience you'd like to see represented, feel free to reach out and we can talk! Please don't come at me with the “person first” language regarding autism though. Also, I don’t actually hate trumpet players this much. I played trumpet in high school, but it’s convenient for the story that a lot of guys who play trumpet are arrogant assholes. (Re: the 2 guys on either side of me who talked around me but never to me for an entire semester. I learned way more about their sex lives than I ever wanted to).  
> I'll give a CW if there's something particularly intense in a chapter. But some overall things to be aware of include, depictions of mental illness, verbally abusive relationships (not between H/L), bullying (no physical abuse or non-con), self-hatred and probably stuff about self-harm at some point, anxiety, anger issues, um, potential drug use later on. I'll probably add to this as I go on.  
> I don't know how long this will be or how often I can update because I have a job, but I'll do my best if y'all seem interested. Please bear with me through the first few chapters, I have to set the scene and introduce the characters and all that  
> Obviously this is a work of fiction and the characters in this story are in no way representative of the boys in real life.

  
  


  
  


  
  


I'm gonna break down these walls, I built around myself.

I wanna fall so in love, with you, and no one else,

Could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now.

Together we'll move on, just don't turn around,

Let the walls break down.

\- Walls, All Time Low

Chapter One – Had Another Talk About Where It's Going Wrong

_Harry – Age 13 – Friday, May 29_ _th_

It's 2:59 pm and I have one minute left of my wonderful middle school experience. (“Wonderful.” See, I'm getting the hang of this whole sarcasm thing. I think). I'm watching the clock carefully and at five seconds to 3, I cover my ears. _Brrrrrrnnng._ As I take my hands off my ears I hear Dylan snicker. This happens every day, but the bell is really loud and I don't like it. Today it's ok though, because it's the last day of school. Besides, I got accepted to J.A. Parks School of the Arts for high school, so I'll never have to see Dylan again because he's decidedly ungifted.

I say goodbye to a few of my nicer classmates, before I make my way to the front of the school to wait for my mom. It will be awhile til she makes it to the front of the car line, so I find a bench in the shade and open up my book, rocking slightly. Where was I? Oh, right, Percy is defending Olympus against the Titan Army. Percy Jackson is my _favorite_ book series right now and since it's finally summer I'll be able to re-read the whole series, again, for the third time this year. Did I mention they're my favorite? I'm just about to start the next chapter when my mom pulls up.

“Hey Harry, how was your day?” She asks as I get into the car.

“It was fine, glad it's summer though.” I buckle my seat belt, crack open my window, and go back to my book. I forget about her, the car we're in, and the fact that I'll have to go shopping for summer clothes this weekend because I keep growing. I spare a moment to think about how much I hate stores before I refocus on my book. I make it a few more pages before she speaks again.

“I got a call from your teacher today.” That can't be good...

“Oh?” I ask, “about what?” She gives me a look like I should know the answer. To be fair, I have a pretty good idea why.

“You have to stop arguing with teachers.”

“But she was wrong.” I protest. I get the same answer as I always do.

“It doesn't matter, she's the teacher.”

There's no logic to this statement, so I scowl and go back to my book, but not before grumbling, “it _is_ grammatically correct to put a comma before “and” if there are three or more items, it's called the Oxford Comma. She just didn't want to look bad. And why was she teaching grammar on the last day of school anyway?” I see my mom suppress a smile; she knows I'm right but she has to keep up an air of disapproval.

“Look honey, put your book up for a minute.” I sigh, It looks like I won't be getting much reading done before we get home. “You're going to start high school in the fall and the teachers won't be as forgiving, even at Parks. If you argue with them, you'll get detention.”

I turn to look at her. “Ok, mom, I'll try to be better about it. Even if they're wrong.” It's her turn to sigh as she turns into our driveway.

Over dinner she remarks, “You start camp on Monday. Are you excited?”

I smile, forgetting about our earlier conversation for the time being. I loved camp last year. It's a rather exclusive summer-long band program at Parks for incoming students, with an entrance audition and everything. I was technically too young to attend last year, but they reserve a few spots for promising 8th graders who plan to apply for high school. You have to get a letter of recommendation from a band director, and mine had assured me that it would be a great opportunity and improve my chances of getting into Parks.

“Yeah! I hope Jack's my section leader again! He always talks to me about books.” She smiles at me, but it's a bit sad.

“Maybe you'll make some friends this summer. You're going to be in school with them in the fall.” She's trying to sound optimistic but I can tell she's worried. Suddenly I'm not so excited.

“Yeah, maybe.” Yeah, maybe if kids wanted to talk about the books I like. Maybe if they didn't laugh at me when I get angry, or tease me when I rock back and forth while reading. It helps me concentrate. Maybe if they stopped stealing my folder and putting all my sheet music out of order. They make me angry on purpose, and then _I_ get in trouble for being upset while they laugh behind the teachers' backs.

But I don't like seeing mom sad and she made me my favorite dinner to celebrate the end of school, so I make myself smile and say, “who knows, maybe I'll meet my new best friend this summer.” I don't believe it, but she smiles so I count that as a win.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2 - When I First Saw You From Across the Room (I Could Tell That You Were Curious)

Chapter 2 - When I First Saw You From Across the Room (I Could Tell That You Were Curious)

_Louis Age 15 – Monday June 8_ _th_

It's the first Monday of summer vacation and my first day at this new music camp. Mom got a better job and we moved the weekend after school ended. Well, it ended for my sisters. I missed the last 3 months. I'm still not sure how I feel about moving, see, change isn't really my thing. But, my sisters live closer to their dad now. I know it's partially my fault that mom wants them to spend more time there and I feel bad, but I'm also relieved. It will be better for them.

My new school has an excellent band program which I'm actually really excited about. If I have to repeat 10th grade, which I do, it might as well be at a good school. I'm going to miss the perfect climbing tree in the backyard, but it's not really like I'm leaving any friends behind. It's not like I had any friends to leave. I'll miss Stan, but I know he won't miss me, not after last winter. There are woods behind our new house too. Maybe I'll meet someone at camp and we can be friends and explore and climb trees together.

I look out the car window, noticing that it's almost all forests around here. I have to admit it's much prettier than the endless miles of farmland we left behind. It's cooler too, what with all the shade. The sun can't beat down on you in the same way. Better yet, no one here knows me, or knows about what happened this spring. Maybe I can hold myself together this time. It's a new chance. I'm caught up in my own thoughts, a mix of optimism and pessimism; I want things to be better this time, but I don't want to get my hopes up too high.

“Louis.” My mom’s voice interrupts my musing.

“Yes mom?” She looks at me for a second but then turns back to the road.

“I know you've had a really rough time this year, and you've had a hard time with friends in the past, but I want you to keep trying ok?”

I give her a look. “It's not like I'm not trying.”

“I know you're trying Lou,” she says to placate me.

I know I sound annoyed, but I can't help it. I'm on edge. I'm always at least little on edge if I'm being honest, but I'm a bit anxious today because I won't know anyone. It's already the second week of camp here; my sisters' school ended later, so I'm a bit worried everyone will have formed their friend groups already. What if I'm behind on music and my section laughs at me, or what if no one likes me, and what if... I force myself to stop. My therapist says it's not good to let myself worry too much about the what-ifs.

I know I'm good, that's why I'm here after all, but I still worry. See, this camp is really exclusive. You have to get into the school first and then you have to audition for the summer program. It's like all-district, but all summer instead of just a weekend. I don't quite know how my mom managed to get me an audition a month after the deadline, but we got a call Saturday saying I'd been accepted and I couldn't stop smiling. At least until my mom asked me to finish unpacking while I was trying to read, then we had a fight.

She leaves me to my thoughts until we pull into the school, and then we both just kind of stare for a minute. I knew it was a good school, but public schools didn't look this nice back home. The paths are lined with trees, and parts of the sidewalks are painted by clearly talented artists.

She walks me in because apparently, “I have to, it's your first day, and I need to make sure you're allowed to get here half an hour early.”

I roll my eyes. “ _Mom_ , I'm 15. I can walk in alone.” She's not having it.

The lady from the reception desk shows us to one of the music buildings. This school has three entire buildings just for music, and there's a fountain in the courtyard, _a fountain_! When we get to the band room, she waves over a girl who looks like she might be in college. “Erin, this is Louis Tomlinson, he just moved.”

“Nice to meet you Louis! It's great to have you here!” I just blink at her, she's very excited for 7:30 in the morning. “As you can see most kids don't get here until 8, but there are a few campers who are always here early so I'll go ahead and introduce you.”

“Bye mom,” I wave hoping she'll take the hint and leave. She tells me to have a good day and walks away.

Erin leads me over to two boys and a girl. They look up, and she says “this is Louis, he's new. Louis, this is Anna, James, and Tanner.” _What kind of name is Tanner?_ I think. “They're all in the trumpet section.” Of course Tanner plays trumpet, what else would someone named _Tanner_ play. I realize I'm being judgmental, so I smile and say hello.

I look around the band room while they tell me all the section drama. Who would have thought there could be so much drama after just one week of camp. The room is bigger than the band room at my last school, fancier, like everything here seems to be. There are cubbies of various sizes lining one wall and framed awards along another. The chairs are already set up with stands in front of each of them. Definitely fancier, I think. My old school had two people per stand. I always had to fight to get Blake to lower the stand so I could actually see the music.

I notice someone sitting in the far corner, a dark haired boy who quickly glances away. He's sitting by himself with a book, and I want to talk to him because it looks like he's reading the new Percy Jackson book. I haven't been able to read it yet because it always takes forever to get a popular new book at the library. I was still 27th on the holds list when we moved. I asked Dad to lend me the money so I could read it while we drove here, but he said he was disappointed in me and I didn't deserve it. I know Mom was upset with him, but with 5 kids and an upcoming move, she couldn't really afford to buy me a new hardcover book.

Tanner is still talking though so I tune back into the conversation. “So yeah, there's a lot of drama, but most people are chill. Except Harry, he's weird.” He wrinkles his nose and I decide I don't like Tanner much. I get the feeling he's a bully. I wonder who Harry is and if we would be friends because I'm a bit weird too. I just force a smile at them though because I don't need to be making enemies before camp even starts.


	3. Chapter 3 - You and I, we don't wanna be like them.

Chapter 3 - You and I, we don't wanna be like them.

_Harry - Monday June 8th_

I get to camp earlier than most kids, because my mom also has to drop Gemma off and get to work by 8. I don't mind too much because it means I get an extra 30 minutes to read. So far during camp most kids seem to forget I exist, which is alright, but the ones who remember sometimes make me wish I didn’t. Gemma would say I'm being dramatic, but what does she know. Not everyone is mean though. In fact most people here are nicer than my old classmates, but I certainly haven’t made a new best friend. It doesn't help that I’m the only one in the baritone horn section this summer.

I think Liam is my friend though. He's also going into 9th grade in the fall, but he came from a different middle school. He is always nice to me and the trombones aren’t too far away, but it’s a bit too far to talk without getting caught. We tried the first day and our director told us off in front of the whole band. Everyone laughed and I felt awful. Liam said it wasn't a big deal, but he doesn't worry the way I do. We eat lunch together though, which is nice.

Still, he doesn’t do anything when Tanner and his cronies decide to mess with me. Trumpet players, they’re the worst. “You’re just so fun to mess with,” they say. I guess their idea of fun is making me mad. There are only so many times they can “re-organize” my sheet music for me before the joke stops being funny. Oh wait, it was never funny.

My mom took me to get the new Percy Jackson book, _The Lost Hero,_ yesterday and it’s _so_ good, so today shouldn’t be that bad. As long as I have my part down, Sparky (it's actually Mr. Sparks) doesn't mind if I read while he works with other sections. Besides, Jack is in fact the low brass section leader again and he seemed genuinely excited to see that I’m reading Percy Jackson. We’re going to talk about it once I’ve finished reading it!

I’m halfway through Leo's second chapter (he's hilarious) when a new boy shows up. He's thin, and not too tall, with brown hair that he keeps nervously sweeping to the side. He looks soft almost, in a slightly over-sized sweater and I feel drawn to him in a way I don't really understand.

Erin, the woodwinds section leader who I personally find a bit too peppy, introduces him to the other kids who are already here – three of the trumpet players who I don't particularly like. Well, Anna is alright. They're all laughing in no time, and I’m a bit annoyed. I'm trying to read after all and they're being loud. I see him look towards me, but I look down before he catches me staring. Erin probably introduced him to them because he's a trumpet player too, which means he'll be just as pretentious as the rest of them. I wouldn't want to be friends with him anyway. That's what I tell myself at least.

I decide to shuffle cards, because it'll be easier to watch him than if I’m reading. Besides, I almost have this shuffling trick down, and I’m nothing if not determined. It's soothing too, shuffling cards. It's almost as good as fluttering my fingers and it doesn't get me any weird looks.

I watch him covertly and I’m intrigued. He’s smiling, but he looks guarded and he keeps fixing his hair. I don’t think most people would notice, but I’m good at this sort of thing, sensing discomfort. Even if I don't always know why someone is uncomfortable, I can tell they are. People seem to think I don't feel or sense emotions, but that's not true. I just don't always express them the same way. Maybe it’s because I spend more time watching than speaking, or because I’m regularly uncomfortable, but I can clearly see it in the set of his jaw and how his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he looks around the room.

Then those eyes are looking directly into mine and I freeze. Even from a distance, his eyes are so blue and I can’t look away, which is weird because normally I hate eye contact. My sister says it’s just one of my “things.” Then I realize he’s caught me staring and I can feel my face heat up so I become extra focused on my cards. Of course that’s when I mess up and the cards fly everywhere. I blush even harder and scramble to pick them up, deciding that maybe today will actually be that bad.

My hands are shaking a bit, my therapist says it’s part of my anxiety, and I keep dropping cards as I pick them up. Suddenly there’s a boy crouched in front of me.

“Hi!” he says, and I flinch, dropping all the cards I’d managed to collect. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” he says, reaching out to steady me. I jerk out of his hold and he freezes. “Right. No touching. Sorry about that.”

To my surprise he sits down on the floor and starts picking up my cards. Most kids would have tried to touch me again, just as a joke of course. They don’t care that I don’t laugh.

“I’m Louis.” I just stare at him. He raises his eyebrows at me, and I remember that I should probably introduce myself.

“I’m Harry. Thank you for picking up my cards.”

He laughs, “well, I’m pretty sure that it’s my fault you dropped them, so it’s the least I can do.”

I smile and look down, “yeah, thanks.” He hands them back to me and I expect him to get up and leave, but he just sits there.

“So… you’ve been shuffling those cards for a while, they must be pretty mixed up by now.” I nod and suddenly feel a bit silly, because I'm still standing and staring at him sitting on the floor.

I decide that I have nothing to lose, and sit down before saying, “I’ve been working on this shuffling trick, wanna see?” He nods, so I split the deck, take a breath, and this time it goes perfectly. I let out the breath I was holding.

“That was sick! Could you show me how to do it?” I look at him, surprised but happy.

“Um, sure! So you split the deck in half like this.” I demonstrate, making sure it’s even. “Then you flip the cards together like you normally would but only let a bit of the edges overlap, otherwise it won’t work. Then you bend it into a bridge and let them slide together.” I show him and then hand the deck over.

He takes them and I’m pleasantly surprised how carefully he splits the deck. Most people split it unevenly and then only part of the deck gets shuffled. I’m a bit meticulous about things like this. He stares at the cards and bites his lip in concentration. The cards end up everywhere. I can’t help it, I start laughing at the startled expression on his face. “Sorry” I say, trying to stop laughing.

He looks at the cards and sighs before chuckling. “No, that was pretty funny. Well, maybe I’ll just let you shuffle for now. Do you wanna play a game that's not 52 card pick up?”

I look at him in surprise, “you should probably go back to the trumpets.” It's a little blunt, but subtlety has never been my strong suit. His smile slips and suddenly he looks disappointed, which confuses me because he seemed so happy a moment ago.

“Did, um, did you want me to go away?” I think he actually sounds worried and he bites his lip. I remember Gemma telling me that people bite their lip when they’re nervous.

I hastily assure him, “No! No, definitely not, I just thought you'd rather hang out with them instead of me. Everyone thinks I'm weird, but you can stay if you want.”

He smiles a bit, looking relieved. “Oh, good, because I maybe want to borrow your book?” I can feel the frown form on my face. Of course he doesn't actually want to be friends with me. He's just being nice so he can borrow my book. He sees me frown and his eyes open wide. “That came out wrong! I promise that's not why I came over! I came over because trumpets are the worst and anyone reading Percy Jackson has great friend potential.”

Cue inner celebration.

He barrels on before I can reply, seemingly determined to get his point across. “See they were telling me gossip about all the sections right? And I think it was Tanner,” I see his nose wrinkle in distaste, “said I could chill with them as long as I wasn't one of... What did he say? One of those boring, fumble fingered low brass players who make easy music look hard.” I'm about to defend the low brass section. I have section pride after all – yes, it's a thing – but he continues without seeming to notice. “So I told them, I'm a rather gifted baritone player myself, and walked away.”

“You play baritone?!” I realize I kind of just yelled in his face, but he just smiles and says, “yup.” I grin. “So do I! Welcome to the section! Well, the section is just me, well us now. Thank God I'm not the only baritone now. Songs sound so much better when there are harmonies between the baritones. Oh, and I can split the high parts with you now.” I realize I'm rambling, and stop to take a breath.

He laughs, “Oh, thanks,” he says dryly.

I smile at him, “the low brass section isn't the most popular, but we have a good time.”

He grins and tells me, “the trumpets may get all the glory, but everyone who matters knows that low brass carries the band.”

I nod, delighted, and say, “so, about that card game... Wanna play slap jack?” He’s a bit overzealous about the slapping, but I’m having too much fun to care.

We play until Jack calls, “alright everyone, circle time.” Louis and I both groan and then look at each other, laughing. I put my cards in my bag with my book and we bring two chairs over to join the group. They’re big on community here, hence the circle. Every Monday we say something we want to improve this week and every Friday we share our “accomplishments.” I think it's supposed to be motivational.

Erin, the overly peppy woodwinds section leader, claps twice and yells “One Band” to which we dutifully reply “Band Together,” because apparently we're still in kindergarten. Louis turns to me eyes wide and mouths, “seriously?” I just grimace and nod. It gets everyone's attention though, and we all turn towards Erin. “Good morning everyone! Happy Monday!”

“As if _that's_ a thing” Louis whispers to me. I bite my lip to keep from laughing and nudge him in warning, hissing “hush.”

“As you know, we start our week by setting ourselves a goal. It can be anything from, “this week I want to perfect my B minor scale” to, “I want to improve my dynamic expression.” I swear she's looking at Tanner when she says that, but he's oblivious as per usual. It doesn't have to be anything huge, just something that you can strive to improve. I want you to also say your name and section as well, because we have a new member joining us today.

People immediately start whispering and looking around and I notice Louis tense up, which confuses me because he seems so outgoing and carefree. “Lewis, could you raise your hand?”

He waves and says, “Hi, I'm Louis. The 's' is silent.”

“Alright everyone, make him feel welcome. So, name, section, and goal for the week. I'll start and then we can go to my right.”

~~~

_Louis_

We go around the circle, and people introduce themselves. Harry keeps a running commentary going, telling me who’s nice and who sucks. “Niall is hilarious, Liam is serious at first but really nice once you get him talking. Oh, Tanner, yeah, he’s a jerk. Archer does everything Tanner says because he can’t think for himself. Anna is the one nice trumpet player. Zayn is the only guy who plays flute, but don’t say anything about it – he’s very creative when it comes to revenge. He took some of the pads off a guy’s saxophone last year so it squeaked every time he played concert Bb. It took them days to figure out what was wrong.”

I keep laughing and I tell him, “stop, I’m gonna get in trouble and it’s only my first day.” I'm not serious though and he carries on.

“Lily and Lila both play flute, they're basically the same person. I can't tell them apart because they’re both blond and they're always together, but I don’t think they’re sisters. I think Lila might have a sister named Leyla in the art program though or maybe it's Lily. Or maybe they're triplets.” At this point I give up trying to remember everyone and hope that I can just follow Harry around.

It turns out I'm not far behind. There's a new set of music every other week, followed by a performance on Saturday, but the first week was spent mainly on exercises and chair placements. We do a full band warm up after circle and then break into sectionals for the morning. Jack explains to me that some mornings will be spent together as a full low brass section and others will be individual sections.

“It will just depend on where we need the most work. Today I just want you and Harry to play scales and some duets so you can get used to playing together. I've seen your audition tape Louis and you're both good. I think the baritone section could be very strong this year if you two can work together.” I grin at Harry, and he smiles back shyly.

Mr. Sparks, the band director, stops by our practice room as we're playing a simple duet and I fumble a bar, made nervous by his presence. He smiles and nods encouragingly and I finish the song without any more mistakes. “Good morning Louis, Harry.” He nods to us. “You're sounding good. I just wanted to stop by to introduce myself and welcome you to the band personally.”

I smile and say, “Thank you sir.”

He laughs and says, “Mr. Sparks is fine. I think I even heard Harry here refer to me as Sparky once when he thought I wasn't listening.”

Harry turns bright red and blurts out, “Oh my god, I'm so sorry Mr. Sparks.” I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing, Harry looks terrified.

“It's ok Harry, just don't make a habit of it. I have to keep up a semblance of authority after all.” Harry looks confused and Mr. Sparks clarifies, “I'm not upset.”

Harry looks relieved, but he's still red and says “sorry,” before hiding behind his baritone.

His fingers are tapping rapidly against the sides of his instrument and he's obviously flustered. It's all very endearing I think fondly, and then I freeze because as sweet as Harry seems, I've been wrong about people in the past. I don’t want to get too close and get let down.

I turn back to Mr. Sparks as he says, “I've got to go check in with the other sections, but you'll see me around a lot Louis. We're glad to have you here at Parks.” He shuts the practice room door before I can say anything else.

I turn to Harry and say, “Sparky?”

He groans and says, “Don't remind me, I've never been so embarrassed. I can never look at him again. What if he hates me?”

I laugh again but then I see that Harry genuinely looks concerned, so I say, “Don't worry Harry, I think he was amused more than anything.”

Harry's fingers still and he looks at me, confused. “Really? I thought he was mad.”

I pause, thinking. “Well, he said he wasn't upset, but he also said he had to keep up a semblance of authority. I think he meant that if you call him Sparky all the time, people might not take him as seriously.”

“Oh, ok” Harry said, sounding contemplative. “Thanks for explaining.” His fingers are fluttering lightly against his baritone again, but it seems more like an unconscious movement than a nervous reaction now.

“Anytime.”

We're about to start playing again when he speaks again. “You can definitely borrow my book when I'm done with it by the way.”

I smile and say “Can I really? I’ve heard it’s so good. I placed a hold on it at the library, but we moved before I could get it, and mom couldn’t aff…” I stop. “I mean, I haven’t gotten a library card here yet.”

He gives me a curious look, but just says “I should be finished in a day or two,” which I appreciate.

Jack stops by eventually and listens to us play a few songs. He gives us a few tips and then explains that Harry will continue as first chair baritone, unless I want to challenge him. He plans on having us trade off on 1st and 2nd parts regardless of seating and I quickly assure him and Harry that I don't care if I'm in 2nd chair. I really don't and I don’t want to feel like Harry and I are competing. He then tells us that it's almost time for lunch and I'm surprised. It didn't seem like we were playing for that long, but suddenly I realize I can no longer feel my lips.

During lunch Harry introduces me to Liam, and he was right. He seems very serious at first, but I figure he can’t be too bad if Harry likes him. At one point Tanner comes over with a boy who I’m pretty sure is named Archer. I’m still working everyone out though. They completely ignore Harry and Liam, and Tanner invites me to eat lunch with them.

“Just because you play baritone doesn’t mean you have to sit with these two.” He says “these two” with disdain and I see Harry stiffen from where he’s sitting across from me.

“Go away Tanner.” They continue to ignore Harry even though he’s spoken.

I see Archer smirking and he says, “you don’t want to be friends with people like them. We’ll be sitting over there,” and he points, “when you decide to join us.”

I notice he says “when,” not “if,” and I scoff. “ _When_ I decide to join you? That’s a bit presumptuous.”

“What?” Tanner asks, looking confused.

“Pre-sump-tu-ous,” I repeat slowly. “It means that you’re assuming I will come sit with you eventually when I’ve given no indication that I want to.” I see Harry trying to hold back his laughter and their features harden, but I don’t really care. I don’t like them, and I get the sense that Harry, Liam and I could be really good friends.

“You’ll regret this.” Archer tries to sound threatening, but he fails.

“I really doubt I will,” I reply. Harry finally gives up and laughs, and it’s a wonderful sound. “Ok, bye.” I give a sarcastic little wave. The two boys just glare at me and walk away. Harry is still laughing and even Liam is chuckling.

“Oh my god their faces were priceless,” Harry is out of breath from laughing. “Presumptuous,” he giggles. If I thought his laugh was wonderful, it has nothing on his giggle. _Careful Louis_ , a voice in my head warns me, but I ignore it.

  
  



	4. Chapter Four – Better Than Words, More Than A Feeling

Chapter Four – Better Than Words, More Than A Feeling

_Harry – Monday June 8th_ – _Afternoon/Evening_

  
  


There’s nothing quite like the feeling of playing with a full wind symphony. Granted the first day with a song is always a bit of a mess; even good musicians struggle with sight reading. I’m not sure why people think it’s so hard though. Sure I make some mistakes, but if you know the key and you know your scales it’s not _that_ complicated. I’ve found there’s a trick to it too. If I don’t overthink it, my brain automatically translates the notes on the page to my fingers.

I cut the flutes and clarinets some slack because they tend to have a ridiculous amount of notes per measure, but what’s so hard about the 3rd trumpet part? My mom just laughs and says not everyone is lucky enough to have a brain like mine. Gemma says it’s unfair because we’re related and she can’t play anything. She’s great at art though so _I_ think we’re even, because I can’t draw to save my life.

The first song we’re working on today is Shostakovich, Waltz No. 2 and I'm excited. I spent two years trying to convince my middle school band director to play this song, but we never did. I know it’s stereotypical, but it’s my favorite waltz and I can’t keep my fingers still while we listen to a recording of it. I wonder if Louis’ notices and what he thinks, but when I look over he’s got his eyes closed. As if he can sense me looking, Louis says, “I love this song.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” I tell him. He opens his eyes to smile at me, and then goes back to listening. When the song is over, it would basically be sacrilegious to speak over Shostakovich, I say, “I’m always jealous the trombones get the solo, it would sound way better on baritone.” Louis laughs and agrees with me.

The first time we play the song we do a full run through, and the second time Mr. Sparks stops us every few measures. Louis’ sight reading is great and I’m not surprised. He hardly made any mistakes in our duets this morning and his major scales were flawless. The second song we work on today is the first movement of Ralph Vaughn Williams’ English Folk Song Suite, which we will be performing in its entirety next weekend. I’ve never heard the Suite before, but I can tell right away that the first movement – No. 1 March 'Seventeen Come Sunday'– is going to be fun to perform.

I lean over to Louis and whisper, “this set is going to be so sick.”

I don’t like the third segment, a second march, as much, but the intermezzo is beautiful. We don’t have time to play through the second and third movements this afternoon, but Mr. Sparks instructs us to look over them tonight and be prepared to workshop them tomorrow.

~~~

My mom let me get away with reading on the way home, but declared that tonight will be a family dinner. _The Lost Hero_ has been banned from the dining room and it's possible I'm sulking a bit. That is, until she asks me about camp.

“It was _so_ good today mom! We're playing Waltz No. 2, remember I played it for you? It’s by Shostakovich.” Gemma rolls her eyes but I ignore her. “Oh and Louis is _so_ cool and we sound so good together! I'm not the only one in my section anymore! Oh, and you should have seen Tanner's face when Louis told him what presumptuous meant. And Louis likes Percy Jackson too! Louis –”

She cuts me off before I can say more. “Harry, honey, who is Louis?” Gemma is laughing and I remember that they have no idea who Louis is.

“Oh, he's new. He just moved here last weekend and he plays baritone. He's really cool.”

“Is he cute? 'Cuz it sounds like you're in love.” I kick my sister under the table.

“Owww! Harry you're wearing shoes.”

Mom just gives us a look and says, “children.”

I finish telling them about my day and the songs we'll be performing next Saturday. Gemma complains that she doesn't want to “sit through an hour of high schoolers playing boring music,” but I know she'll be there for every performance because she's cool like that. I spend the rest of dinner listening to Gemma talk about horses and the annoying girls at her horse camp. Parks has a summer arts program that she'll be going to, but it doesn't start for a few weeks.

I manage to get away just as she starts complaining about “the blonde Trinity,” (not to be confused with “the brown haired Trinitee with two E's”), for the third time, by saying that I have to look over music before camp tomorrow. There are a few runs that will take some work and there are some high notes in the first and second movements. My lips are tired from today though, so I just run through the fingerings a few times while listening to a recording on YouTube.

When I go to put the music back in my folder I realize it's a mess, so I spend the next 10 minutes reorganizing it. Old songs that I still play regularly go in the left pocket, alphabetized of course, with current music in front, also alphabetized. Songs I don’t play as often go in the right pocket, with the scales and warm-ups in front for easy access. Once that's done, I settle down to read until bedtime.


	5. Chapter Five - Everybody's Waiting For You To Breakdown, Everybody's Watching To See The Fallout

Chapter Five - Everybody's Waiting For You To Breakdown, Everybody's Watching To See The Fallout

_Louis – Tuesday June 9_ _th_ _Morning_

Mom doesn't work until the afternoon today, so I got to camp too late to chat with Harry before sectionals. As I'm putting my backpack in my cubby, Archer and Tanner come up to me.

“You know you don't have to be friends with Harry just because he's in your section.”

I turn to them and say, “I thought we went over this yesterday. Why wouldn't I be friends with Harry?” They don't seem to notice the edge in my voice.

“You'll stop hanging out with him once you realize what a freak he is. You're more than welcome to join us when you do, just don't take too long or we might reconsider.” As if I'd want to be friends with those assholes. I'd hoped they got the message yesterday.

“What did they want?” Harry comes up to me after they're gone, looking a bit nervous.

“Nothing.” I tell him and it feels like a lie. I feel a bit guilty. Even though I told them to leave, I didn't tell them to stop calling Harry a freak and I know I could have defended my new friend better. “They were just being idiots.” Well, that much was true.

~~~

It's towards the end of lunch, before our full band rehearsal when Tanner and Archer start walking towards us. Liam is eating lunch with the rest of the trombones today, and I notice Harry tense up as they draw closer. I remember what they said yesterday and this morning when I was at my locker, and I think _this can't be good._

As they get closer I notice Harry's fingers starting to flutter again, but this time it’s not because he’s enjoying Shostakovich. It’s faster, and he's nervous, not content. For a moment I forget about the bullies walking towards us and think about how graceful his fingers look even now. Then I wonder when I started to notice the differences in the ways his fingers flutter. I'm jolted out of my thoughts by a bang as his stand hits the floor and we both jump. Harry's neatly organized sheet music is flying everywhere and suddenly it's not just his fingers that are fluttering, it's his whole hand.

“Oops, sorry” comes a mocking voice, Tanner - his voice is nasally and annoying. “You really shouldn't keep your stand so far into the aisle.” Archer laughs rudely, as if what Tanner said was funny.

“Maybe if your hands weren't so busy flapping, you could have caught your stand,” says Archer, and then he starts flapping his hands dramatically.

Unlike Harry, there's nothing graceful about the movements. I stare at them, frozen. Next to me Harry takes a shuddering breath and I'm suddenly afraid he's going to cry. When I look at him though, I don't see any sign of tears. I see an expression that I know well. He's fighting for control, and he's angry.

“Aww,” coos Archer, “Harry's going to cry.”

“I. am. not.” Harry grits out, the first words he's said so far and his normally soft voice is harsh.

“Whatever Freak,” Tanner laughs nastily and then he grabs Harry's wrists, forcing them to still. Then several things happen at once, I unfreeze and shove him off of Harry, because that's Not Cool. Clearly Harry doesn't like to be touched. Tanner shoves me back and sneers “great, now we have two freaks in band,” Archer spills a soda I didn't notice he had onto Harry's scattered sheet music, and Harry snaps.

“I'm not a freak and you two are fucking assholes!” He's yelling, and I flinch involuntarily, because from what I've seen he's normally pretty soft spoken. “Why don't you grow the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone.”

As soon as he starts yelling I see Tanner and Archer smirk at each other and do a not-so-subtle fist bump. It hits me then that this was what they had wanted all along.

Luckily only the flute player, Zayn was back from lunch, watching with a hard to read expression on his face. Harry's yelling had drawn attention from the office however. Erin and Jack come running over and Erin makes the mistake of trying to hold Harry back.

“Don't touch me!” He's still yelling, and he hits out at her, but it seems more reactive than intentional; he sounds more panicked than angry now.

“Erin, give him space.” Jack sounds calm, and I'm grateful, because someone has to be and I'm definitely not. Archer and Tanner are staring hungrily, like predators watching prey, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hit them. Suddenly Jack turns to them. “You two, give me your phones and then go to the office, I'll deal with you later.” Their grins disappear when they hear the obvious anger in Jack's voice and I really hope they get in trouble.

I realize then that Archer's phone camera had been pointed towards Harry and it makes me feel sick all of the sudden. Harry seems to realize it too because he's yelling again, “and turn off your damn phones you assholes before I break them.”

Jack holds out his hand and the two boys reluctantly hand over their phones. Jack pockets them before saying, “pack up your stuff and go sit in the office. Now.” His tone clearly indicating bigger problems for them if they argue, and they go. “Erin,” Jack nods towards them, and she follows, making sure they don’t disappear.

I turn back to Harry and see he's biting down on his finger, hard too. I want to hold him and tell him everything will be ok, or give him _my_ finger to bite instead of his. Ok, where did that thought come from? I just feel protective; I'm a big brother after all, but I know that's not what he needs from me right now.

“Harry breathe,” Jack's voice is calm again, “let's go to your room alright?” I appreciate that Jack doesn't say “it will be ok, because it's not ok right now. Harry gives a jerky nod and Jack reaches to pick up his backpack.

I beat him to it, and say “I'm coming with you.” He looks like he's going to argue, but I give him my best, I'm determined and you can't change my mind, stare and he just nods instead.

Zayn walks up then, and I decide I like him when he says, “I'll get your music fixed up for you Harry,” seemingly unfazed by the boy's outburst. I try to smile at Zayn but I think it’s more of a grimace. He nods at me and then I turn away.

I follow them down the hall of practice rooms to a windowless door that I had previously assumed to be a janitor's closet. It turns out to be a music library. It's fairly small, but there are 5 or 6 shelves, a couch, a small table and a number of comfortable looking chairs; it's cozy and quiet. Suddenly exhausted, I slump into the comfiest looking chair and close my eyes for a minute.

When I open them again Harry is pacing, but he seems to lose a bit of the tension in his muscles with each pass. Suddenly he drops onto the couch, puts his head in his hands, and starts crying, saying, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry” over and over. He looks young to me then, and I remember that for all his musicality and sharp intelligence, he's still only 13.

He looks vulnerable and I can't take it. I move into the chair closest to him, but still a few feet away. Every time he says “I'm sorry,” I say “it's not your fault, it'll be ok.”

He turns to me with red-rimmed eyes and says, “No, it's not ok.” It's harsh, but not loud. “It's not ok, because now you know how messed up I am.” He sounds sad as he says, “I’m a freak like they said. You can leave now, it's ok. I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore. I know you're probably uncomfortable.”

“No!” I exclaim, perhaps a bit louder than is appropriate given the situation, but I hate how sad he sounds. “No!” I repeat, in a softer voice. “You’re not a freak and I’m not going to leave. Don’t listen to those assholes. We're friends remember? You're stuck with me now.”

He gives me a look of disbelief and says, “you’re joking right?”

I remember that Jack is still in the room with us, and ask him, “could we have a minute alone please?”

He looks wary, but asks, “Harry?”

Harry shrugs and says, “it's fine Jack.”

He gets up but before he leaves the room he says, “you know where to find me Harry. Do you want to go home for the day?”

“Umm, no. I don't think so.”

Jack gives him a smile and a nod, “Okay. Louis, I'm trusting you, don't make me regret it.”

I nod solemnly and say, “you won't.” He gives me a small almost-smile and shuts the door behind him.

Harry is just sitting there staring at his lap. I sit quietly for a minute before I break; I'm not good with silences. “What are you thinking about?”

He glances over briefly before forcing out, “why are you still here? Aren't you afraid of me, or freaked out by how angry I got over nothing?”

I think about my response, because I know this moment is important and I don't want to mess it up. I decide to go with the truth. “It was hardly over nothing. But no, I'm not put off by it.” He gives a snort of disbelief. “No, really,” I insist. “I'm not, because.” I falter. It's harder to say than I expected, even to Harry who I instinctively trust for some reason.

I start over, but with my eyes closed. “I'm not put off by it at all, because I'm like you.” That gets his attention. He stares at me, surprised.

“You're autistic?”

“Well, no, not quite, but I get angry like you do.” He looks confused, and I can't blame him, I'm not making much sense.

“Everyone gets angry Louis. You don't understand. It's different for me.”

I take a breath try again. “No, I know it's different, and it's not exactly the same, but I get it. It takes over everything, right? It doesn't matter if you want to be angry or not, you just are and there's nothing you can do. You can try to control it, but in the moment it sort of feels good when you lose control, because you're getting out all the bad emotions, but that just makes the guilt worse afterwards doesn't it? And it's scary sometimes too, because you know you'd never do or say those things normally. Sometimes it's like you're just watching yourself and wondering why you can't stop. And then when it's over you're just tired and feel like shit because you didn't actually want to be angry in the first place and now you have to deal with the consequences of whatever you've done or said.” I realize I've been talking to my lap, and look up to see Harry's reaction. He's staring at me, mouth parted slightly in shock.

“Yeah. Yeah. B-b-but. How? How do you know that?” he manages to get out eventually.

I take a deep breath, realizing that two days into what could potentially be the best friendship I've ever had I'm about to divulge the one of the secrets that caused me to lose my old friends. “Um, because I'm bipolar.” I say.

His eyes widen and he says, “oh.”

I have to look away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I convinced myself he would be ok with it, but now I don't know because all he said was “oh.” What the fuck does, “oh” mean?

I stand up, getting ready to leave and find somewhere to mourn the loss of my new friend, (it's possible I am every bit as dramatic as my family accuses me of being), when he says. “Where are you going?”

I don't turn around as I say, “you don't have to pretend to be ok with it, I'll leave you alone.”

I'm surprised to hear a soft laugh and feel a hand on my wrist. “Now you're starting to sound like me.” He says as he tugs me down onto the couch. “I don't care that you're bipolar Louis, but I have one important question.”

I'm tense, but I say, “alright, shoot,” though I really don't know what to expect.

“Will you be my best friend?”

“What?” I sound shocked, and he flushes, obviously embarrassed.

“Never mind, it was dumb, forget it.” He's rambling and I interrupt.

“No, no, I just wasn't expecting that. Can you ask again?”

He looks cautious but says, “Louis, will you be my best friend?”

“It feels a bit like you're proposing to me Harry, where's my ring?” He laughs, and the tension is gone. “It would be my honor,” I say.

He lets his head fall back against the couch and says softly, “you know, no one has ever wanted to stay friends with me after seeing something like that.”

I look at him and ask, “as your new best friend, can I be honest?” A wary nod.

“I'm actually impressed with how long you made it before you yelled at them. Not to mention your vocabulary…” I chuckle softly. “But in all seriousness Harry, I wouldn't have lasted that long before I lost my temper, so maybe cut yourself some slack yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks around, like he's trying to come up with something to say, eventually he gets out, “I can't usually hold out that long, but I didn't want to scare you away. Thank you, that actually means a lot.”

I smirk at him, “if this were a movie this would be where we would hug dramatically, but I don't think either of us particularly like spontaneous hugs.” He beams at me and I decide then and there that I could gladly spend the rest of my life trying to keep him looking like that.

I lose track of how long we sit there quietly, but it's nice. For once I don't feel the need to fill the silence, because we both need time to relax after the tension of the last half hour. I see him trying to hide the movement of his hands by putting them under his thighs and I break the silence to say, “Harry, you don't ever have to hide around me ok? Flutter your fingers, flap your hands, whatever feels natural. It's totally fine.”

His expression is unreadable as he says, “I'm just not used to it you know? Being expressive without being judged.” I'm sad that he sounds so resigned at only 13.

“Well it's ok around me,” I reiterate.

He hesitates. “Actually, could you hand me my bag?” I pass it over, and he pulls out a kaleidoscope. “I like how it looks, it's calming and it makes me happy, but I don't want Tanner to break it.” We take turns looking through it and I know we're missing the full band rehearsal, but I can't be bothered to care.

  
  



	6. Chapter Six - Might Not Mean That Much To You, but To Me It’s Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise the chapters will start getting longer

Chapter Six - Might Not Mean That Much To You, but To Me It’s Everything

 _Harry – Tuesday June 9_ _th_ _, After camp_

As soon as I get in the car after camp I ask, “Mom, can we go to the bookstore?”

“Hello to you too,” she says. “We just went this weekend to get your book. If you’re done with it already you can bike to the library once we get home. Also we need to talk about today, Jack called.”

I frown, “but mom, it has to be a new book. I want to get a copy of _The Lost Hero_ for Louis. Please? He really wants to read it, but he doesn't have a library card here yet and I don't think he can afford to buy it.” I can tell she's wavering. “I really, really want to get it for him. I'll use my allowance and everything.”

She sighs. “Tell me what happened today, and I'll think about it.”

“I tried not to get mad mom, I really did but they knocked over my stand and Archer poured soda all over my music. And Tanner held my arms down and then he shoved Louis when he pushed Tanner off me, because Louis _knows_ I don't like when people touch me even though I never told him that. Tanner kept calling me a freak too and Archer made fun of my hands. I tried to do calm breathing, and count to ten and everything, but they pushed Louis and they took a video! I tried! And I didn't mean to hit Erin, but she held me! You know I don’t like when people hold me.”

I'm getting upset again and my mom interrupts, “It's ok Harry, I'm not upset with you. Jack told me he deleted the video, and Archer and Tanner have been suspended until Mr. Sparks decides whether they should be allowed to continue at camp.”

I take a shuddering breath and say, “you're not disappointed I didn't even make it two weeks at camp without having a meltdown?”

She looks at me and says, “Harry, of course I'm not disappointed in you. I wish things were easier for you, because I'm your mother, that's just how it is, but I could never be disappointed in you. Look at you, you get up every day and go to school and camp, and even if it's hard you keep going. Remember when you couldn't even go to school because it was too much for you? Now you're about to start 9th grade in a mainstream classroom. I'm so proud of you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and say, “oh. Thanks.”

I wait a beat and then say, “so can we go to the bookstore?”

She laughs and says, “look up.” I look out the window and realize we're already there.

I smile at her and say, “thank you, thank you!” before hopping out of the car.

“Harry, wait for me,” she calls before I can fully cross the parking lot. “So, tell me more about this Louis. He's the one you mentioned yesterday right?”

I nod and think about how to describe him. “Well, he's nice, and funny, and really, really smart. He's great at baritone too! You should hear him sight read! We sound so good together too, I think we could win the section games this summer.” I don't think he knows about them yet, but the section games consist of a weekly challenge where you can earn points for your section. Whichever section wins gets to choose one of the songs we perform during the last concert.

“And he stayed with me,” I say quietly.

We're at the door, but she stops. “He stayed with you?” She questions.

I nod at and elaborate. “He wasn't put off by me getting angry. He came and sat in the music library with me until I was ready to talk and then he said he would be my best friend.” It's an abridged version, but the rest isn't only mine to tell.

My mom looks a bit like she might cry, but she smiles instead and says, “let's go buy your Louis a book.” She tries to pay for it, but I say that I'd rather buy it myself because it feels more genuine that way. She smiles and says she’s proud of how kind I am as we walk out of the store. I just roll my eyes and get in the car.

~~~


	7. Chapter 7 - And I can lend you broken parts, that might fit like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm re-uploading Chapter 7 because I finally wrote the rest of the chapter.

_Chapter 7 - And I can lend you broken parts, that might fit like this_

_Louis - Wednesday June 10th – Morning_

  
  


I'm tired this morning and the day has barely begun. I couldn't fall asleep last night until it was past midnight, so I was grumpy when my mom woke me up. I was mostly asleep still when she came back the second time and I didn't mean to tell her to “fuck off,” but she was still upset with me. To make it worse, we were late because I forgot my meds and we had to turn around. She was so frustrated that she yelled at me before we spent the blessedly short drive in silence. Needless to say, I'm not in a good mood and as I slam the car door shut and stalk away, I decide that I fully intend to mope all day.

I hadn't planned for Harry Styles though. As soon as I walk in, he hops up and meets me at my locker. He smiles so brightly at me that I feel myself relaxing a little despite my determination to be angry. I don't need another casualty this morning though, so I keep my mouth shut before I take my frustration out on this boy who definitely doesn’t deserve it.

He stops smiling and looks concerned. "What's wrong Louis?"

I try to smile again, but I can tell it falls short. "I just had a crappy morning and I didn't sleep well."

He takes a step towards me and then stops. "I have something for you, but I can leave you alone if you want." I can tell that he would leave if I asked, but he looked excited to see me when I got here, which is a nice change.

I open my mouth to tell him to leave me alone when I process what he said. He has something for me. He has something for me and he looks so hopeful, and I suddenly realize that I can't fuck this up. "It's ok Harry, you don't need to leave me alone."

He looks relieved and says "do you want it now, or later?"

"Now," I decide. I need _something_ good to happen this morning.

He opens his cubby and pulls out a surprisingly large package that's legitimately been wrapped in sheet music. He scrunches his nose a bit, and says "it's the only paper I had. Go on, open it." He’s eager so I open it. I try not to tear his music, but I’ve never been very good at opening gifts carefully.

When I see what it is, I can't breathe for a moment. It's a brand new copy of _The Lost Hero_ and I swallow hard so I don't cry. I can't do anything but stare at him. "Open it" he says again, and I look at the inside cover. There's an inscription in neat cursive that says _To Louis, Love, Harry._ Underneath it says, _For staying_. At the bottom there’s a drawing of a ring and I laugh for the first time today because it seems Harry is not only the nicest person in the world, he also shares my sense of humor.

I step towards him, because I could really use a hug, but then I freeze. He smiles and says, “I do like hugs you know, it just has to be the right person and I like to know before it happens.”

“Can I hug you?” I ask, and he nods. I think it might be the best hug I’ve ever had and I sniffle a bit.

“Hey, Louis. Please don’t cry.” The concern in his voice makes it worse, and I have to hide my face in his neck before I start to cry harder. “I have a key to the music library, do you want to go there?” He says it gently and I nod and I wipe my eyes.

~~~

We spend the remaining time before camp in the library reading. Harry seems to sense that I need some time, and I get the feeling that reading is how he prepares for the day as well. Harry's already half way through _The Lost Hero_ , so I have some catching up to do. I'm still a bit upset about this morning, but I manage to get lost in the pages of my wonderful new book. I still can't quite believe Harry bought it for me, and I'm not sure if he realizes just how much it means to me that he did. Maybe I'll write him a thank you card, or make him some cookies.

A soft wind chime goes off, and I look up confused. “It's my alarm on my iPod,” Harry clarifies. “I tend to lose track of time and I don't want us to be late.”

I smile at him, “very smart.”

He ducks his head sheepishly and says, “well, Gemma, that's my sister, is actually the one who set it. Also I don't always remember to turn it on.”

I laugh and say “I forget to set my alarm half the time. It drives my mom nuts.” I roll my eyes and imitate her voice, “all you have to do is press a button Louis, how hard is it to remember?” Harry chuckles and I shrug. “We should probably head to the band room now.”

We practice as a full low brass section during sectionals today. The higher voices tend to carry the melody, which is the part people remember, but there's something so powerful about the low brass that woodwinds and high brass can't match.

At the end of rehearsal, Jack announces, “Friday will be the first match of our section games.” I look over at Harry, confused. He was grinning and I got lost staring at him for a moment. How did I miss the dimples? I think to myself, and then snap out of it. Jack is still talking.

“For those of you who are new, the section games are a summer long competition with weekly challenges. Points are awarded at the end of each challenge, and the section with the most points at the end of the summer gets to help Mr. Sparks choose the program for our final concert. If your section is caught cheating you will be eliminated.”

I understand why Harry looks so excited now, this sounds like so much fun. “What's the first challenge?” someone calls out. It's a tuba player, but I don't know her name yet. She's shorter than I'd expect for someone who plays tuba, but I'm not too tall either so who am I to judge. She has choppy, bubblegum pink hair and is wearing combat boots and leggings with, are those skulls on them? She looks like she'd beat up anyone who told her she was too small to play tuba, and I decide that I like her.

I lean towards Harry and whisper, “what's her name?”

He smiles, “that's Olivia, she's pretty cool.”

“The first challenge is a scale relay.” There are some murmurs of confusion, and someone asks, “what's a scale relay?” Jack rolls his eyes, “I'm getting there. If you all will let me finish explaining _before_ asking questions?” Everyone falls quiet and looks at him expectantly.

“The scale relay is going require you all to know your scales. One person in your section will start with a concert Bb scale, up and down, and then the next person picks it up with a C scale, then a D scale and so on. Your section gets a point for every scale you get right. Because it's the first week we're going easy on you and telling you the order in which you'll play so you know which scales to practice. We won't always though. Are there any questions?”

I look over at Harry again, he's practically vibrating with excitement. He looks over at me and I whisper, “this is going to be _so much fun_.” He just bites his lip and nods.

~~~

_Harry_

The next day and a half pass quickly. Camp is fun, but tiring. Anyone who says band isn't hard work has never workshopped the same song for 3 hours. While Mr. Sparks focuses on other sections, Louis and I talk about things like our favorite books and complain about sisters. We eat lunch with Liam, and with Tanner and Archer gone for the week, no one bothers us.

Friday morning comes, and I can't wait for the relay challenge. There are only two of us in our section, but I'm sure that Louis and I are going to smash it. We stayed late yesterday to practice, and while there were some mistakes with the harder scales, we both promised to practice at home. I practiced my scales until Gemma came into my room and threatened to hit me over the head with my music stand if I didn't stop. We were a bit late to leave the house this morning, so Louis is already sitting in the band room when I get there. When he sees me, he jumps up and runs over.

“Do you want to have a sleepover at my house tonight? My sisters are with their dad for the weekend. Well, except the twins, but they're 2.” He says it all so fast that it takes me a few seconds to figure out what he said. I freeze, unsure of how to answer. See, I haven't had a sleepover since the time that I called my mom sobbing at bedtime and had to go home. Louis notices my hesitation, and says “it's ok if you don't want to.” He tries to hide it, but he sounds disappointed.

“No, no, I want to,” I quickly reassure him. “I just... don't do well away from home overnight.”

His head tilts to the side a bit, considering, and my heart sinks a bit. I'm really not very good at this whole friend thing. Before I can get too worried though, he says, “Well, do you think we could have a sleepover at yours then?”

I look up at him, surprised. “You'd want to?” I ask.

He nods enthusiastically and then says, “I'm sure my mom would like a night off from me anyway.” He tries to pass it off as a blithe comment but there's something off about it. Before I can ask though, he asks, “would your mom be ok with me coming over?” and he sounds cheerful again, so I ignore it.

“She should be,” I reply. “I'd call her, but I don't have a phone.”

“You don't have a phone?” Louis blurts out, looking affronted. I can't help but laugh at his expression.

“No, my mom says I can get one for my Christmas.” He shrugs and hands me his phone, so I dial my moms number and hope she picks up.

“ _Hello, this is Anne speaking”_

**“Hi mom, it's Harry.”**

“ _Harry, are you alright?”_

**“Yes mom, I'm fine. Can Louis and I have a sleepover tonight?”**

“ _Hmm, has he asked his parents?_ ”

**“His mom said I could spend the night, but he said he didn't mind staying at ours instead.”**

“ _I need to speak with his mom first, but I don't see why not. Have him send me his mom's number, so we can figure out the details.”_

**“Thanks mom! I'll have him text you her number!”**

_“_ She said she has to talk to your mom first, but it's fine with her! Can you text her your mom's number so they can work out the details?”

He grins at me and says, “Of course, this is going to be so much fun!”

I smile shyly and admit, “I've never had a real sleepover before.”

He stares at me in disbelief, “What? Well, you're going to get the full sleepover experience tonight. We can watch a movie, and build a blanket fort, have a pillow fight, and stay up too late talking!”

~~~

_Chapter 7.5_

_Call between Anne and Jay_

_J: Hello, this is Jay_

A: Hi Jay, this is Anne. I'm Harry's mom. I'm calling about Harry and Louis having a sleepover tonight.

_J: Oh, hi! It's nice to speak to you. Louis is really excited to have Harry over._

A: Yeah, so I'd love for them to have a sleepover, but Harry doesn't do too well away from home overnight. If it's alright with you, Louis is more than welcome to spend the night over at our house though.

_J: Oh, are you sure that's alright with you? Louis can be a handful._

A: It's totally fine with me. My daughter Gemma is having a friend over tonight as well, so what's one more kid. I'll be honest, this is the first time anyone's invited Harry to have a sleepover in years. He really seems to like Louis.

_J: Well if you're alright with it then that's fine with me. I don't know if you've heard, but we just moved here last weekend, so I'm thrilled that Louis' already made a new friend. He won't admit it, but he was nervous about starting camp late._

A: Oh really? I knew Louis was new to Parks but I didn't know you'd just moved. It's kind of hard to get details out of Harry sometimes. Unless it's about some symphony or a new book.

_J: *laughs* Louis is the same. By the way, when we meet up, I can pay you back for that book you got Louis._

A: Oh no, there's no need, and I didn't pay for it, Harry did.

_J: Really? Louis said it was a gift from Harry, but I figured you'd paid for it._

A: Nope, I tried, but Harry wouldn't let me. What Louis did really meant a lot to him.

_J: What did Louis do? I guess I didn't get the full story._

A: I'm sure you're busy since you just moved, but are you free at all today? Maybe we could get a coffee and get to know each other better and talk logistics for tonight.

_J: You could come by our house if you don't mind the moving chaos. Most of Louis sisters are with their dad for the weekend, but the twins are too young._

A: Most of? How many sisters does he have?

_J: Four, the poor boy. You can meet the youngest two if you stop by. They just turned 2 this March._

A: Oh, I love toddlers! Well I'm off work at 12:30, could I stop buy around 1?

_J: Sounds great, I'll text you the address._

A: Wonderful, I look forward to meeting you!

~~~

  
  


Jay greets Anne at the door of a modest two story house, painted a light blue. There are labeled boxes in all of the rooms, and the walls have yet to be decorated. The telltale traces of children are scattered around in the form of dolls, a few stray Nerf darts, and a random sock.

“Hi Anne, it's lovely to meet you. Sorry everything is a bit of a mess, I've been trying to unpack, but with the twins being so young and the other three being little whirlwinds of chaos, it's a losing battle.”

“Don't worry! I know what that's like trying to keep things neat with kids around. I only have two kids, I can't imagine having 5.”

Jay smiles at Anne and says, “It's a bit hectic but I love them. I should be able to get some work done this weekend. My ex-husband Mark is taking the older two girls Lottie and Felicite for the weekend. I just put the twins down for a nap, but you can meet them when they wake up. Why don't I make us some tea and then we can sit in the living room. We just got new couches and I'm not sure I've even sat on them yet.”

“So” they both start as they get settled onto the couch. They laugh, and Anne says. “you go.”

Jay smiles and says, “Well, I guess I'm curious about why Harry bought Louis a book. He's been wanting to read it for a while, but well,” Jay shrugs, “hardcover books are expensive, and we moved before his hold came through at the library.”

“I don't know how much Louis has told you about Harry.” Anne starts, and then pauses.

Jay shrugs, “Louis' a good boy, but he doesn't always like to talk to me much; he'd rather be reading. He was very excited about meeting Harry the first day though. He actually hasn't talked that much about a new person in a while, but all I know is that they both play baritone, he thinks Harry is a great musician, and they both love Percy Jackson."

“We heard all about Louis the first night at dinner too.” They share a smile and Anne laughs a bit before continuing. “Harry is a sweet kid, but he doesn't always make the best first impressions on people. He's autistic, and it tends to make him an easy target for bullies. He doesn't always understand when people are joking, and he has a hard time making friends.”

Anne looks up, expecting the exclamations of sympathy and “oh that must be so hard for you as a mother,” that usually come at the information that her son has autism, but while Jay looks a little surprised, she just says, “Oh, I see. That must make school difficult for him.”

Anne nods, “He really has come a long way. I had to home school him for years because school was too overwhelming, but he actually just finished his second full year in a mainstream classroom last year.” She can't help smiling at this and Jay smiles too.

“That's incredible. You must be very proud of him.”

Anne laughs, “Yeah, I am. I'm glad he got into Parks for high school though. The smaller class sizes will be good for him and the teachers will be more understanding. He's made a lot of progress, but it's still hard for him. He gets overwhelmed easily, and sometimes kids like to push his buttons on purpose.” Anne can't help sounding mad at this.

“Apparently on Tuesday a number of boys knocked over Harry's music stand and poured soda all over his music. He tends to flutter his fingers a lot, it's called stimming.” At this Jay nods. “But when he gets upset or excited he flaps his hands, and kids like to make fun of him for it. One of the boys grabbed his hands to hold them still, and you have to understand, Harry really doesn't like physical contact unless he seeks it out. The counselors didn't see everything, but from what I understand, Louis pushed the boy off of Harry. Harry's control is getting better, but he still has meltdowns sometimes when everything is too much and he started to yell at them.” Anne grimaces, but Jay just reaches over to squeeze her arm as if to say, it's ok. “Harry knows he can go to the music library when he needs to calm down, so Jack, one of the counselors took him there, and I guess Louis went along and sat with him until he was calmer.”

Anne pauses here to take a breath, “Most kids, understandably, are put off by Harry's meltdowns, so kids are wary of being friends with him. There have been a lot of times where a new friend only comes over once because they get scared away, and he's only 13, I can tell it hurts him. He's very smart and he understands why yelling scares people, but he doesn't really understand why kids are so mean to him when he tries to befriend them.” Anne sighs.

“That's the hardest part for me I think. I hate seeing how hurt and confused he gets when people don't want to be friends with him.” Anne swallows hard, trying not to cry. “Sorry, I didn't mean to get emotional, it just means a lot that Louis stayed with him and Harry told me that Louis said they could be best friends. He's never really had a best friend before.”

Jay sniffles too and says, “Now you've got me tearing up too.”

Anne laughs at this. “I have to admit, you're taking it better than I expected.” Jay looks up toward the ceiling and blinks before turning to Anne and taking a deep breath.

“I don't know if Harry knows yet, but Louis is bipolar. Bipolar type 2, so he doesn't have full blown manic episodes, but still. I don't tell people that often, but I think you understand what it's like. It's part of the reason we moved here. Louis missed a lot of school last year, which I guess you can understand. He has to repeat 10th grade, and I wanted him in a better environment. A few kids found out after he told an old friend, and they made it really hard for him.”

“Mark lives closer to us here, and even though we aren't together anymore, it will still be better for the girls to be able to spend more time with him. I love Louis, but he can be very difficult to handle at times and sometimes his mood swings scare his sisters. He's a good kid, I'm not trying to scare you, and he always regrets being angry, but it's hard for him to control sometimes.” Jay takes a deep breath and looks over at Anne again.

“I've had parents tell me that they didn't want their kids playing with someone dangerous, and I've been told I'm just a terrible mother and Harry needs real discipline, but he really is the sweetest boy. He just gets overwhelmed by his emotions sometimes. I was really happy to hear that he'd made a friend.”

Jay nods, “I was happy to hear Louis made a friend too. He was really anxious after his old friends stopped talking to him.”

Anne turns to Jay and says, “come here,” The two women hug, and Anne says, “it's hard for people to understand, but they're good kids. I haven't met Louis yet, but the way Harry lights up when he talks about him, I can tell he's an incredible kid. Come on, let's finish our drinks and then we can trade war stories while I help you unpack some boxes. Then I want to meet the babies. I've been missing little ones, my babies are 13 and 15 now. It's a horrible age combination.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you liked & didn't like! Do you want more from the parents' perspectives?


	8. When You're With Me, No Judgment (You Can Just Be Yourself)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter. Sorry it took so long, life is super busy. It's unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are my own. I'll go through and fix any mistakes later, but if you notice any, lmk!  
> <3
> 
> Also, I fixed the formatting of the other chapters, so it's got proper dialogue formatting and all that fun stuff.

_Chapter 8 – When You're With Me, No Judgment (You Can Just Be Yourself)_

_Louis - Friday June 12_ _th_ _Morning cont._

“Low brass assemble!” Jack’s voice cuts into our conversation. Once he has our attention he beams and says, “who’s ready for our first challenge?” I look around, gauging people’s reactions. Harry and Olivia are smiling, but next to me, Liam looks a bit like he might be sick.

I squeeze his shoulder and mouth, “it’ll be fine,” and he manages a weak smile.

“Part of being a musician is learning to play in front of others, so we’re meeting up with high brass in the big classroom down the hall. Get your instruments, and remember, no scale sheets.” A couple people groan and Jack looks unimpressed. “You were warned. You should have your major scales memorized, that's the whole point of this challenge. Two minutes, last section there goes first.”

Everyone starts rushing to their cubbies but I turn to Harry and say, “I was thinking,” just as he says, “would you mind.”

Then, “oh, you can-,” and “you go.”

I can't help a laugh, and seeing that Harry's clamped his lips shut, I say, “I was thinking maybe we could go first? Just to like, get it out of the way you know?”

Harry smiles “that’s what I was gonna say. It gives me less time to get anxious.” I nod, “exactly.”

We grab our baritones and make our way towards the practice room. Everyone else is hurrying down the hall, but we stroll leisurely after them. “Do you feel ready?” I ask, and Harry gives me a small smile.

“Yeah. I mean, I always get a little nervous before performances or tests or whatnot. We already sounded good yesterday afternoon though, and I practiced more last night. If I mess up any of them, it’ll be the B scale. What about you?”

I shrug. “You've got the hard scales, with E and B.”

He rolls his eyes. “And you’ve got the last scale, that high C is really high.”

“True,” I tell him, “but I practiced extra last night too. We’re gonna smash it.” I hope I can follow through on the promise. A high C is within my range, but it's at the high end. It's one thing to hit it when I'm alone in my room practicing, and another to hit it in front of a crowd.

We stroll in casually and I catch Jack's eye. He gives me a _look_ like he knows we’re last on purpose. “Looks like our baritone section volunteers as tribute.” I can’t help a small laugh; I like Jack. He’s a bit sarcastic, but kind, and he has good tastes in books. I also like that he never treats Harry differently despite knowing he’s autistic. I know all too well the ways that people change when they find out about mental illness. Though autism is actually a developmental disability, there's a similar stigma. Jack’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Alright everyone, you have 5 minutes to warm up and then we’ll get started.”

Harry and I find an unoccupied corner and get out our baritones. I appreciate the warm up time. With brass instruments it takes a few minutes before your lips and instrument are warmed up enough to have a nice tone and good flexibility. The last thing I want is to frack1 a high note or miss a partial2 because I'm not warmed up. I test my valves and decide give them a drop of valve oil to make sure they're extra smooth for the challenge. We make it through long tones and lips slurs before Jack cuts us off. I’m momentarily distracted, impressed by his ability to be heard above a brass section. Then I realize I should probably listen to what he's saying.

“I’m going briefly remind all of you of the rules, so pay attention. Elyssa and I will judge.” I notice a girl standing next to Jack and recognize her as the high brass section leader. I think she plays french horn. She's tall, with dark skin and blue streaks in her braided hair. “You cannot use sheet music. Your section will get one point for each scale that is played with no errors. If you get all the scales right, you get a bonus point. Remember, as soon as one scale is finished the next player starts. If you start early or late, you lose half a point. If you get off time from the metronome, you half a point. This is a test of precision and teamwork between you and your section. Are there any questions?”

A trumpet player raises his hand. “So, do we start the next scale as the person before us plays the last note, or on the beat after?”

“On the beat after.” Elyssa answers. “No overlapping, and no excessive pauses. Any more questions?” No one else raises a hand, and Elyssa continues, “if that’s all we will begin.” She looks to Jack, and calls, “Alright baritones, come on up.”

Once we’re seated at the front of the room my nerves start to kick in a bit. The entire brass section is staring at us, and it’s slightly intimidating. I decide to focus on Harry instead, letting his green eyes and calm smile ground me.

“Are you ready?” Jack asks. Harry and I look at each other, and nod. “Ok, I’ll start the metronome and count you in. I’ll give you four counts and then you start.” Jack turns the metronome on, and I internalize the beat. He catches Harry’s eye and counts, “one, two, three, four.”

As Harry gets to the end of the first scale, I take a breath and come in right on time. Harry doesn’t fumble once, even on the B scale. Despite my apprehension about hitting a high C, I take a deep breath, and as I start the last scale I can feel in my lips that my embouchure is set just right, my lungs are full and my fingers steady.

As my last note fades out, I catch Harry’s eye. He’s grinning, green eyes sparkling and dimples on full display. I feel breathless, but I blame it on playing so many scales in quick succession.

“Alright, it looks like the baritone section has set the bar high. Good job Harry, Louis. Full marks. Who’s next?”

~~~

_Friday Afternoon - Louis_

“Mom! Guess what! We were perfect, and we were the only brass section to get full marks. The flutes and tenor saxes did too, but we were the only brass section! Louis hit the high C perfectly and I didn’t mess up the B scale at all!” I stare at Harry a bit shocked. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak so quickly. The woman who I gather is Harry’s mom laughs. She has a nice laugh I think.

“Hello Harry, it sounds like you had a good day. Care to introduce me to your friend here?”

Harry freezes, “huh? Oh, yeah, Mom this is Louis.” I smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy; I want her to like me.

Remembering my manners, I stick out my hand and say “Hi Ms. Styles. It's nice to meet you.”

She gives another nice laugh. “Please, Anne is fine. It's lovely to finally meet you Louis, I've been hearing about you all week.”  
“Mommmm” Harry groans. “Don't embarrass me.”

I laugh at him, “It's nice to meet you too Ms. I mean, Anne.”

She smiles at me and I relax. “So, Louis. I met up with your mom this afternoon, and she gave me an overnight bag for you. If it's alright with you, we'll just head straight to our house after we pick up Gemma and you can spend the night.

Harry turns to me, looking excited and a touch anxious, as if he's afraid I'll have changed my mind. I remember him saying he's never had a real sleepover, so I make sure I sound extra enthusiastic when I say, “That sounds perfect!”

We spend the car ride telling Anne about the first challenge, and she asks me how I'm liking camp so far. “I'm really enjoying it. My last school had a decent band, but nowhere near as good as this one. I don't think my old stand partner even knows what a B scale is, let alone the key signature and how to play it.”

Beside me Harry laughs, and Gemma groans. “Another music nerd, no wonder you and Harry get along.”

“Oh shut up,” Harry grumbles at her, but it all seems more playful than antagonistic.

We pull up outside a mid-sized house. It's painted gray with bluish-green trim. Once we're inside, Anne says, “I was thinking we'd just order pizza tonight if that's alright with you all.”

We all nod, and Gemma looks up from her phone, says, “Nik will be here at 6, and we want veggie pizza,” and disappears into her room. I suggest pepperoni but once Harry informs me he's vegetarian, we agree to split a cheese and black olive pizza.

“Harry, why don't you show Louis around and I'll order the pizzas.”

As Harry leads me towards his room, I ask, “who's Nik?”

He sighs heavily and says, “Gemma's friend. They're very nice, but whenever they're over they try to give me a makeover. They're very persistent. Last time they straightened my hair and it looked awful.” I can't help laughing at the resigned look on his face.

“Please tell me you have pictures.”

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head a bit too quickly. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he blushes. “So, this is the living room.” I drop it, though I fully intend to ask Gemma later.

Once he's done showing me around, Anne says, “Harry, why don't you go make sure the couches are clear and get the TV set up to watch a movie. Louis, can you please help me get plates and drinks?” Once Harry runs off, she turns to me. She looks serious and I feel nervous all of the sudden.

“Louis, I'd like to talk for a minute if that's alright.” I nod warily, not really sure what to expect. She must see my nervousness, because she follows up with, “it's nothing bad, don't worry.” She gives me a warm smile and I relax a bit.

“So, I met up with your mom today to get your overnight bag,” she starts. “We talked for a while and got to know each other a bit better. Anyway, I want you to know that she told me you're bipolar.” I freeze and stare at her. I'm caught off guard and I'm slightly annoyed at my mom, because it's not really anyone's business.

She continues, “It doesn't seem right for you not to know that I know. So I wanted to tell you that she told me. I know we don't know each other well yet, so I want to make it clear to you that I don't care about that. It doesn't change how I see you ok?” At that I look up. “I know that you know Harry is autistic. You're the first person his age who hasn't laughed at him for having a meltdown and I want to thank you for that, because it meant the world to him.”

I shrug, and say, “you shouldn't have thank me for being a decent human being.”

She smiles sadly. “I know I shouldn't have to, but people can be cruel.” Her voice hardens a bit, taking on a sharper edge. “Please don't hurt my son. I have a good feeling about you Louis, but I have to look out for Harry. Too many “new friends” have just been kids trying to clear their conscience. They thought being friends with the autistic kid would make them look like a better person, or that maybe they could “help” him act more normal. They get bored fast and then they become conveniently busy, until he eventually stops trying to talk to them anymore. It takes a bit more out of him each time, so please don't make promises you can't keep.”

I think over what she said. I hate that anyone would do that to Harry, let alone enough times that Anne felt the need to have this conversation. I stand up straighter and look Anne straight in the eyes, for about half a second because eye contact is a lot. Then I look away so that I can focus on what I want to say, rather than the overwhelming discomfort of eye contact; it's very distracting.

“I understand, but you don't need to worry that I'll stop talking to Harry. I'm not just acting like his friend cuz I feel bad for him, or cuz I want to change who he is. I'm not going to suddenly decide it's too much work to be friends with someone autistic. I'm his friend because he's funny, and smart, and kind. We like the same books, we can talk about music, and when we're together, it doesn't matter that we're autistic or bipolar. We're just Harry and Louis.” I pause for a beat and then say, “um, sorry about the speech.”

To my relief she laughs, diffusing the tension. “We'll keep you Louis.” I duck my head to hide a blush.

~~~

_Harry_

I'm apprehensive as I show Louis into my room. I'm not used to having people over and I don't know what he'll think of it. As we walk in, I try to see it from his perspective. I've painted my walls a light lavender tinted gray with a darker purple trim. My cousin Clark informed me my room was “girly and weird,” but I like the colors and they're calming.

My bed is against the left wall. I have a bookshelf on the far wall, a desk in one corner, and a chair and music stand in another. My walls are mostly undecorated, but I have a poster of a dragon on my closet door, and above my desk I have a “cute kittens” calendar that Nik got me.

While I was observing my room, Louis had wandered over to my bookshelf. “Oh my god, Harry, you have first edition hardcovers of _all_ the Inheritance Cycle books!? I'm so jealous!” I feel myself relax, reminded that Louis _wants_ to be here, he loves books just as much as me, and he's nothing like Clark.

“Which was your favorite Eragon book?” He asks.

I think for a minute, “hmm, I'd have to say _Inheritance._ What about you?”

Louis bites his lip, thinking. “I'm always torn between _Eragon_ and _Inheritance_ , although I do really like that _Eldest_ is set in _Ellesméra_. Although, the relationship between Murtagh and Nasuada in _Inheritance_ is fascinating.”

After that our conversation flows naturally, which is something I don't experience often. Usually I have a hard time keeping a conversation going, but I have yet to feel like that with Louis. We always have something to talk about and I decide that I could get used to the ease with which we converse. We’re eventually interrupted by my mom calling us for dinner.

“Oh, Louis, one thing.” He turns to look at me. “Gemma's friend Nik, um they're nonbinary and use they/them pronouns.”

He looks confused and asks, “what do you mean?” I think of how to explain it, trying to remember how Nik had explained it to me.

“So, you know how people refer to boys as he or him, and girls as she or her?” Louis nods so I continue. “Well, those are someone's pronouns, right? But there are some people who don't feel like a boy _or_ a girl, so they use the gender neutral pronoun “they” instead of he or she.”

He still looks a bit confused, and says “Ok, so Nik isn't a boy or a girl, but what did you say they are? Non whatsit?”

I can't help a smile. “Nonbinary. Do you know what it means to be transgender?” He nods.

“There was a boy in band back home who was transgender. It's when the body you were born with doesn't match how you feel right?”

“Yeah. So there are trans women, who were born physically male, but are really girls. Then there are people who were born physically female but are really guys, and they're trans guys. But then there are some people who were born male or female, but don't feel like either and they identify as nonbinary, although I think there are other terms too.”

“Ok, so Nik is nonbinary.”

I can't interpret his tone of voice, so I ask, “it's not a problem is it? Nik has been Gemma's best friend forever and they're like another sibling to me.” Louis' eyes widen and he shakes his head, quickly assuring me that it's no problem.

“I'm just trying to get it straight so I don't mess up... their? pronouns. Is that right? Their pronouns?” I bit back a grin, and decide to test the waters with some queer humor.

“I don't know about _straight._.. but yes, it would be correct to say 'their pronouns.'”

Louis rolls his eyes and gives me a light shove. “Ok, poor word choice. But in all seriousness Harry, I don't have any problem with people being gay or bi, or transgender, or nonbinary. I mean, I might not really understand the nonbinary thing yet, but I'd never judge someone for that, don't worry.”

I give an internal sigh of relief, but keep my face calm except for a smile. Mom, Gems and Nik all know I'm gay, but I don't know if coming out is really first sleepover conversation material. It’s good to know he isn’t homophobic though. “Well Nik is super open to talking usually, so I bet they'd be willing to explain better than I could.”

“I don't know, I wouldn't wanna like, make them uncomfortable or anything. But Harry, what if I mess up their pronouns?”

He looks really nervous, so I quickly reassure him, “Nik is really laid back. If you mess up, they'll correct you and move on. Everyone makes mistakes. As long as you're not homophobic or transphobic it'll be ok.”

“I'm definitely not.” He says it with finality.

“Good!” I reply. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Now let's go get pizza, I'm starving.”

~~~

We get downstairs just as Nik walks in. They really are like another sibling. They don't even knock anymore, they just waltz right in. “Gemma! Nik's here.” I call up the stairs.

“Hey kiddo!” Nik smiles and gives me a hug.

They are one of three people I like hugs from – Nik, Gemma, and my grandma. I do tolerate hugs from my mom though, because it makes her sad when I pull away. I don't know why, but from anyone else hugs are uncomfortable. It's hard to describe what it feels like when random people hug me. It's almost like my skin crawls, except not quite. I don't know, it just feels wrong. I'm really just not a fan of physical contact. Then I think about the way Louis hugs and how right it felt. I've yet to figure out why touch is ok from some people and not others, so I decide not to overthink it. Maybe someday I'll figure out why Gemma can hug me but mom can't, but for now, I don't know. In the meantime, I mentally add Louis to my “acceptable hugs” list.

“So are you going to introduce me to your friend here?” Nik's voice calls me back to reality, and I blink.

“Oh, yeah! Louis, this is Nik. Nik, this is my new friend Louis. He plays baritone with me at Parks.” Louis crosses his arms and makes an offended noise and I turn to him, confused.

“Your new friend? I am offended Harold. I am not simply your “new friend.” I'm your new _best_ friend thank you very much.”

Nik laughs, “I like him Harry.”

I can feel myself blushing. I wasn't sure if I could introduce Louis as my best friend. I've been afraid he'd changed his mind or was joking about being my best friend. It's a relief to know he meant it. I try to think of something intelligent to say, but all I can manage is, “My name's not Harold.”

“Sure it is,” says Louis. “Harry is short for Harold.”

It's at that moment that Gemma decides to make an appearance. “It actually is just Harry.”

“Hmm. I like Harold.” Louis states, and then walks into the kitchen.

I stare after him, at a loss. I turn back to Gemma and Nik in time to see them whisper to each other before cracking up. “What?” I ask, but they just shake their heads and I'm left to follow them into the kitchen.

After we get our pizza, we migrate to the living room to choose a movie. Gemma is all for a horror film, but we overrule her. We toss around some other ideas, but once Nik learns that Louis has never seen Mean Girls, we quickly agree we absolutely have to watch it.

As the credits start to roll, Nik turns to me with a grin and says, “So, Harry.” In the way that means I'm about to be victim to yet another one of their makeovers. Gemma instantly perks up, also recognizing their tone. She enjoys this far too much, and I kick her. She glares at me and kicks me back.

“Yes Nik?” I sigh.

“Well, I got some new stuff, and I need someone to test it on.”

I turn to Louis and say, “I told you,” before smiling placidly at Nik. “Sorry Nik, I can't tonight. Louis’ over.” I figure I’m safe this time. I don’t actually hate it as much as pretend to, and Nik and Gemma both know that, but Louis is still an unknown. Besides, he probably was expecting a regular boys' sleepover, not a makeover with my sister and her friend.

“Oh come on Harry, I wanna see you get a makeover.” Perhaps introducing Louis to Nik and Gemma was a bad idea. I glare at him, but he seems unfazed.

“Why don’t you give Louis a makeover instead.” Two can play at this.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, that fine.”

“Or you could do both of them,” Gemma’s tone suggests she’s being helpful, but she’s really not.

“Or, you could leave me and Louis in peace and just bother Gemma tonight.” I look over at Louis and say, “It’s time to make our escape.”

Nik grabs my arm as I stand up. “Come on H, I’ll just do a light natural look. Pleeeeeaase”

I shake my head, but say, “I’ll do it if Louis does.” I figure I’ll be safe. Most boys wouldn’t be caught dead in makeup.

Louis sighs and says, “Ok fine, but just eyeliner.”

I stare at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. If...” He pauses and smirks at me. I have a sinking feeling that I won't like what Louis says next. There's a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If I can see the pictures of you with straightened hair. Also I wanna see you in makeup, so I'm up for it.”

Gemma cackles, and I glare at her. “You're supposed to be on _my_ side, and that's a very unattractive laugh Gemma.” She just keeps laughing.

Once she calms down she informs me, “I'm your sister, it's my duty to embarrass you. I've got the pictures on my phone, Louis. I'll go grab it.” I accept defeat, there's no way I can stand against Gemma _and_ Louis, and I'm sure Nik would side with them.

Once she goes, Louis turns to Nik, “Give me a punk look.” Nik looks thrilled.

As Nik goes to get their makeup bag, we discuss what movie to play next. We eventually settle on How To Train Your Dragon. We've all seen it before so it'll be good background noise. I get up to make some popcorn while Louis and Nik get settled.

Predictably, Louis laughs at the pictures Gemma shows him, so I threaten to curl his hair and see how silly he looks. He just shrugs and says, “maybe next time.”

I can't help a small happy hand flap. He said “next time” with no hesitation, like there's no question he'll come over again! I can tell he notices the movement, but when I catch his eye there's no judgment in them, so I do it again, just because I'm so happy and he grins at me.

By the time Nik is done with Louis’ eyeliner they’ve talked him into eyeshadow as well. I did warn him that Nik is persuasive. In the end, Louis has black eyeliner and a subtle dusting of silvery blue eyeshadow. Nik did a good job on it. It doesn't overpower his face and it emphasizes the blue of his eyes. I tell Nik to surprise me but keep it light because I don’t feel like washing off a ton of makeup tonight. When I look in the mirror I’m relieved that they actually did go for a more natural look, with no eyeshadow, thin eyeliner, and light blush.

By the time we finish the second movie it’s past 9, and Louis and I decide to go to my room. As soon as I close my door Louis turns to me and says, “blanket fort time!”

“Aren’t we too old for blanket forts?”

He gives me a scandalized look. “One,” He holds up a finger as if to emphasize his point. “You are _never_ too old for blanket forts, and two,” another finger, “I said you were getting the full sleepover experience tonight, and a blanket fort is an essential component of a sleepover.” Louis takes one look at the blankets on my bed, frowns, and says, “we need more. Where's the linen closet?”

I go to grab some more blankets, and pass my mom on the way back. “What are you doing with all those blankets Harry? You know we have an air mattress Louis can sleep on.”

I grin and say, “We're making a blanket fort. Can I use the couch cushions?”

She looks bemused, but agrees. “I'm going to my room now, but I'll be up for a while if you need anything. Don't stay up too late, and don't be too loud. Also I expect you to put those blankets in the wash tomorrow.” I nod my agreement, and as I'm about to go into my room she calls, “Oh, and Harry, your makeup looks good tonight.” I give her a big smile. I love my mom, she's never once made me feel bad for wearing makeup even though I'm a boy.

Once we've got the main structure of our fort built, we pile blankets, pillows and then ourselves inside. “So Harold, what shall we talk about.” I roll my eyes at Louis.

“You know my name really is just Harry, it's not short for Harold.”

“Huh. I can stop calling you Harold if you don't like it. Do you have another nickname?” He was laying on his back, but he turns to look at me.

“I don't hate Harold, but I don't love it. Nik and Gemma call me H sometimes, but nobody's ever really given me a nickname before.” I think about it for a minute. “A nickname would be cool, but maybe something else. Besides, aren't nicknames supposed to be shorter? Harold is longer than Harry.”

He gives me a smile, and says, “Very true. I'll have to think of a better one then.”

“Do you have a nickname?” I inquire, “or do I need to think of one for you too?”

Louis huffs out a small laugh and says, “my little sisters call me Lou Lou. But before you ask, no, you may not call me Lou Lou.”

I grin at him. “That's so cute.”

He reaches out and pokes my dimple and says, “these are cute,” before rolling onto his back again. He does it so casually, as if that's a normal thing to say. But what do I know, maybe it is.

“What about Lou? Can I call you Lou? Just sometimes, as like a nickname?” I lay down and get comfy while I wait for his answer.

“Sure.” Then we're quiet for a while, just thinking, but it's not awkward.

Eventually I roll over to look at him again, “So what do you wanna do until bedtime?”

He makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs. “Just talk maybe? I don't know, was there anything you wanted to do?”

I hesitate, I have an idea, but I don't know if he'll like it. “I was thinking maybe... I don't know, never mind it's dumb.”

He frowns at me and says, “I'm sure it's not dumb. Come on, tell me.”

I start again. “Well I was thinking, like. I always hear people talk about how they played truth or dare at sleepovers or parties, and I've always kind of wanted to play.” It turns out I needn't have worried.

He grins and says, “I love truth or dare, but before we get started, we need to set the scene.”

I give him a look. “Set the scene? Are you sure you're not supposed to be a drama student?”

“Ha, ha.” He says dryly. “Maybe I'll try out for the school play someday. I was gonna say “set the mood,” but that sounds weird, so I changed my mind. Do you have a small lamp or a camping lantern?” I nod, and he continues. “Alright, can you grab that, and then turn out the lights? I'm gonna run to the bathroom and put on my pajamas. He darts off, and I quickly change into my pajamas before going downstairs to dig through the camping closet. I know we have a lantern somewhere.

Ten minutes, a lost battle against a collapsing tower of camping gear, and a search for new 9 volt batteries later, I make it back upstairs with a working lantern. I turn off my overhead light and turn on the lantern before crawling into the fort.

“Are you ok? I thought I heard a something fall downstairs and your hair is all crazy.”

“I got attacked by camping gear, but I'm fine.” He lets out a laugh and reaches over, finger-combing my hair until it lays flat again. I'm not sure which surprises me more, how casually he does it or the fact that I don't instinctively flinch away when he does.

He seems to realize what he did, and freezes. “Sorry Harry, I shouldn't have done that. I know you don't like people touching you randomly.”

“It's ok Louis, I don't really mind when it's you.”

He lets out a soft, “oh” before looking down. “It's just a habit I guess, with all my little sisters, but I still should have asked first.”

The moment seems important, but I'm not really sure why, so I mentally shrug and move on. “So, do you want to go first?”

He sits up and says, “Yeah, sure. Ok, truth or dare?”

I think about it for a bit before deciding. “Dare. But don't make it anything that will get me in trouble or bother my mom.” He dares me to shoot marbles under Gemma's door until she and Nik notice. I get to 7 before I hear someone get up, and we run away, giggling.

We've been playing for a while when a question comes to me, so the next time Louis says “truth.” I ask, “Why did you let Nik do your makeup? Most guys wouldn't let anyone near them with makeup.” He takes his time before answering, and I start fidgeting. Was that not an ok question to ask? I thought it was.

“Well, I have younger sisters, so it's not the first time I've been given a makeover. Though I have to say, Nik did much better than my 8 year old sister. There was less hair pulling and no tangled barrettes, which I appreciate.” We chuckle and I relax.

“I also just don't think it's a big deal. Am I going to go out wearing make up regularly? No, probably not, but just that's cuz it's not really my style. But if a guy, or someone nonbinary, or whoever really, wants to wear make up, or paint their nails, who cares? You know? People get so hung up on what guys and girls should or shouldn't do, or if something makes them seem gay or not, but it's all bullshit. People like to say they aren't homophobic but they're still afraid people will think they're gay. I don't think that really counts. I don't particularly care if someone thinks I'm gay or not.”

We're quiet for a minute while I think over what he said. In the end I say, “I like your way of looking at it. It seems simple when you put it like that. I agree, people care too much about what others think.” We lay there for a bit longer before I say, “do you want to set up the air mattress?”

“Could we just sleep in here?” He asks. “I'm pretty comfy.”

I nod in agreement and go to say, “yeah,” but I'm interrupted by a yawn. “Here's fine.”

We get comfortable, and once we're situated I turn off the lantern. We lay there for a bit before before Louis says, “Hey Harry, can I ask you one more truth, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to?” I'm curious so I agree. I roll over to face him even though I can only see his outline in the dark.

“Are you gay Harry?”

I think about what to say, and I appreciate that he doesn't rush me for an answer. Part of me is nervous to have it out there, but I also don't want to hide it. I don't like lying and I'm not ashamed of being gay. In the end it's an easy choice.

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“Is it? Ok? I mean, with you?” I hear rustling as he turns towards me.

“Of course it's ok with me. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have asked, but I was curious.”

“It's fine Louis, I'm glad you know. I don't know if I'm ready to be out to everyone at school yet, but Mom, Gemma, and Nik all know.”

“Thanks for trusting me, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone.”

“Thanks Louis.” I lay there thinking a bit longer before I say, “Hey Louis?”

“Hmm?”

“Are _you_ gay?”

He sighs and says, “would you laugh if I said I don't know?”

“Of course not.”

I can hear him swallow before saying, “I just feel like I should know. I mean, I'm already 15, and it's who I like right? It's simple, shouldn't I know?”

“It's never simple,” I reassure him. “Some people know right off, other people don't. It's ok. You'll figure it out eventually, but until then, just exist ok?”

“Thanks Harry. I'm really glad we're friends.” I'm glad for the dark, because it covers the blush I can feel spreading across my cheeks.

“I'm really glad we're friends too Louis.”

We both snuggle into our blankets, tired from the long day and the conversation. As I'm about to fall asleep I hear him say, “Goodnight Hazza.”

“Hazza?” I mumble in question.

“Yeah, Hazza, it's your nickname.”

I decide I like it and say, “goodnight Lou.”

1Fracking is when you play a note on a brass instrument and it “breaks.” Think of Louis' Over Again voice crack, but on trumpet/baritone/trombone/french horn. Generally the higher the note, the easier it is to frack it.

2Partials – Brass instruments have a limited amount of finger combinations. In order to play a range of notes, you use your lips to change partials. You tighten your lips to switch to higher partials and loosen them to play in lower partials. Think of a stringed instrument. Holding down the first fret on each string “looks” the same, but sounds different because the size of the string is different. (Sorry if that made no sense. IDK how to describe partials because it's something I just _feel_ in my lips.)


End file.
